Under a Highlander's Spell: A Steamy Scottish Historical Romance Novel

by Maddie MacKenna

  Earl Strongbow slowly smiled, his thin lips pulling back across uneven teeth. Lord Kensley definitely did not like the look in his glittering eyes. Lord Kensley felt like prey –a dormouse – and Earl Strongbow was toying with him, ready to come in for the kill.

  Earl Strongbow gazed silently at Lord Kensley for a few long seconds.

  “What is it, then, Lord Strongbow?” Lord Kensley asked again, uneasily.

  Earl Strongbow held his piercing stare a moment longer, looked directly into Lord Kensley’s eyes and said flatly, “You will give me your daughter’s hand in marriage.”

  His demand took Lord Kensley by complete surprise. He sputtered. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Oh, come now, Lord Kensley. Surely you have not contemplated her value to your estate.”

  Although Lord Kensley had not expected this, he was not stupid. Lord Kensley knew exactly what Rowena meant to his estate. Arranged marriages between British nobility or even foreign royalty were a common way for powerful families to boost their power and influence. Forming a strong alliance between important families and factions could be effective.

  Lord Kensley said, “Of course I have thought about it. But until now, it had not seemed urgent. Or perhaps I have not wanted to face the fact that some day she will belong to someone else. I admit I have a soft spot for her.”

  “My word, Lord Kensley. Stop sounding like a silly old fool. I’m surprised you did not make arrangements for her years ago.”

  “If you must know, Lord Strongbow, I have given it thought. The truth is I’m not convinced of the wisdom of these marriage ‘arrangements’. The idea of making my own flesh and blood a pawn to further my commercial or political interests seems . . . to be frank, it seems wrong. I’m not convinced that it is best for my daughter.” Lord Kensley looked out the window as he said this. “Besides, you’ll expect a dowry from me. I have nothing to give you.”

  Earl Strongbow grew exasperated. “Forget the dowry. An alliance with you is enough for me. With my workers, your wool production will give me an endless supply of raw materials. So you may put your emotions aside, Lord Kensley,” he said. “The value of this alliance with me could ensure the survival of Middle Kirk Manor and your earldom.”

  Lord Kensley raised an eyebrow. “I need you to understand what it will take to succeed. I’ll need you to supply at least fifty laborers who know how to farm sheep. I’ll need another twenty-five or so to tend the oats and barley.”

  “No problem,” Earl Strongbow said, without hesitataion. “Do you have housing for them?”

  “Of course,” Lord Kensley said. “I have tenement cottages all over the manor property. Many of them are vacant.”

  Earl Strongbow nodded. Then the two noblemen finished negotiating out other details. When they had concluded an agreement, Lord Kensley had a servant write it all down. Earl Strongbow signed it, then passed it to Lord Kensley.

  He held the pen, thinking over what he was about to do. He knew that Earl Strongbow was right. If he did not do this, he would likely lose everything. Sure, he would keep his title of “earl”, most likely, but what good was a title? It could not pay for food and shelter and self-defense. Lord Kensley could think of no other way out of his predicament with his fortunes intact. Earl Strongbow had him in an iron grip.

  Lord Kensley put his head in his hand, worried about Rowena’s reaction to the news. How will I tell her? She will be terribly dismayed, but once I explain everything to her, she will understand. She would have to. But would she ever forgive me? He could not be sure, but it was a risk he had to take. Without another word, he signed the agreement. Then he pulled himself to his feet and offered a handshake across his desk to Earl Strongbow. “Rowena is yours,” he said. “When can I expect your workers to begin arriving?”

  Earl Strongbow stood slowly as he lifted himself off of his seat. He shook Lord Kensley’s hand and said, “I’ll have my workers here in two weeks’ time. And on the morrow I shall ride to St. Martha’s with my men to retrieve Rowena.”

  “Wait just a moment, Lord Strongbow!” Lord Kensley objected. His paternal instincts had suddenly taken control.

  Earl Strongbow narrowed his steely eyes at Lord Kensley. “Are you telling me ‘no’? I beg your pardon, Kensley, did we not just reach an agreement on the terms of this alliance?”” Earl Strongbow asked.

  Lord Kensley swallowed his ire. He would have to be more careful about what he said to this supercilious fool. He said, “Of course, Lord Strongbow. But I insist on sending my own knights along with you. The abbey is located near the borderlands with Scotland. It is rife with outlaws and raiders. As you would expect, Mother Lenora, the abbess there, will need assurances that I have approved of Rowena’s sudden departure.”

  Earl Strongbow said, “You are right. This will come as a surprise to them.”

  Lord Kensley continued. “I would go with you, but as you can see, I am in no condition to go. However, Rowena knows many of my knights, and they know her. It will comfort her to be in the company of my men. I will write a letter that they can take with them to assure her that you are acting on my instructions. Can we agree on that?”

  Earl Strongbow paused, and then nodded. “I suppose you are right, Lord Kensley. I see no harm in that. But do not dawdle. I am anxious to consummate our agreement, if you understand what I mean,” he said with a crude smile. Lord Kensley swallowed the bile he felt rising in his throat.

  “Lord Strongbow, I am Rowena’s father. Please keep that in mind when you speak to me about her.” Lord Kensley suppressed the urge to punch Earl Strongbow right in the nose. Before he could say or do anything further, Earl Strongbow was out the door and heading to round up his men.

  Lord Kensley limped back to his desk. Poor Rowena. He wished he could deliver this news in person, but he could not go. His knights would have to deliver his letter when they arrived at St. Martha’s. He began to write:

  Rowena, my dearest daughter,

  Nothing is more important to me than protecting you. Since the death of your mother, I have wanted only to do what is best for you. We have both paid a heavy price for it – these past seven years without you here have been lonely and difficult. The situation with the citizenry has not improved – sickness still pervades the countryside and few are able to work. Unrest is rampant. I fear society is on the brink of collapse, along with my own fortunes, and drastic measures are needed.

  Although you have been away from me for so long, you have been constantly in my thoughts. No father could care as much as I do for his daughter, nor be willing to sacrifice so much.

  Entrusting you to the sisters of St. Martha’s has kept you safe and taught you well. You have learned to be courageous and strong, dependent on no one, even in the face of profound disappointment. How more blessed can any father be?

  Dear child, I have important news for you. Our futures and the future of Middle Kirk Manor are at stake. I can explain details to you later. For now, please understand that for reasons of your own safety and security and to fulfill my obligations to King Richard and to the citizenry of the shire, I have determined it necessary to form a strategic alliance with Lord David Fulton, Earl of Strongbow.

  As part of our agreement, I have consented to give him your hand in marriage. Your union will seal the most powerful alliance in all of England, assuring the best defense for the shire and all of our interests. Most importantly, this marriage will establish you as a noblewoman of the utmost prominence in the highest ranks of British nobility. As the wife of Lord Strongbow, you will want for nothing for the rest of your life.

  The ceremony is to take place forthwith. Accordingly, you must return to Middle Kirk Manor with Lord Strongbow at once. Our knights will escort you to ensure your safe arrival.

  Your loving father

  When he finished writing, Lord Kensley folded the letter and sealed it with hot, crimson colored wax. He pressed his signet ring into it, leaving his crest embossed deeply into the seal. No one would doubt the import
ance of this message. Especially Rowena.

  3

  Rowena was in the abbey library. She was completely absorbed in her schooling assignment of the day: translating a Latin manuscript of Beowulf into English. She was so deep in concentration that she did not hear the commotion in the entry hall below.

  Sister Prudence dashed up the back stairway and stood at the library doors. “Rowena! Rowena! Ah, thought ye would be here!” Sister Prudence called in an urgent but hushed voice.

  Rowena finally looked up from her work. “What is it, Sister?”

  “Come, look out!” Sister Prudence motioned her over to the arched windows that looked out into the courtyard below. The leaded glass made everything look wavy and a little distorted, but Rowena could see well enough. The sight alarmed her. Four armed knights dressed in chain mail had galloped right into the courtyard. Two of them bore her family crest on their cloaks.

  Behind them rode a solitary man on a fine-looking gray horse. Both horse and rider were well-turned out, carrying a banner emblazoned with a crest that she did not recognize. Mother Lenora, flanked by three nuns, were rushing out to greet them, their long skirts flapping in the breeze.

  Watching the scene unfold below, the sisters gasped. Rowena cried, “That is my father’s crest! I recognize one of the knights. Where is my father?” They watched as the five men dismounted. She knitted her brow in confusion. “I don’t understand. Why are they here? Where is my father? Oh no, there must be an emergency! Something must have happened to my father! Please God, let him be safe!”

  Rowena rushed to the stairway and down to the entry hall with Sister Prudence following behind her. Mother Lenora came through the entry door with the man wearing the crest she did not recognize. She turned to him, but gestured to Rowena. “This is Rowena,” Mother Lenora said. Then to Rowena, the old abbess said, “This man has news from your father.”

  The man stepped forward and gave a perfunctory bow. “Perhaps you do not recognize me. We have met before, many times. You were a child then. And a year ago, you tended to me and my men when we stopped to rest for a night. I am Lord David Fulton, Earl of Strongbow.”

  Rowena immediately recognized him. She had met him a few times as a child. Then last year, he had come to St. Martha’s with his fighters after they had gotten lost in a raging storm. Strongbowhad stared at her impudently and made crude remarks while she served him. He became drunk and started groping at her as she served him. She was able to get away from him when the bells called the nuns for evening prayers. Rowena had not told anyone about this incident, thinking she would likely never encounter him again.

  Rowena gave a quick curtsy. “Lord Strongbow. Of course I remember you. Pleased to meet you once more.”

  Looking at him now, she estimated he was in his mid-forties and looked every bit of it. He had an unhealthy paunch and thinning gray hair combed across the top of his head. His face bore the expression of a man whose lifelong unhappiness was transforming to malice.

  He said with an oily voice, “I suspect our presence troubles you, my dear. No need for concern. My men and I have come to take you back to Middle Kirk Manor at first light tomorrow. I am delighted to inform you that you are to become my wife.” He handed the letter to Rowena. “This letter from your father will explain it all.”

  She saw her father’s seal on the letter and ripped it open. She recognized his hand. It was genuine. She began to read the letter silently. As she read, she clutched at the crucifix she wore around her neck and shook her head. No, no, no, this cannot be! she thought. Her hands began to tremble. She bit back tears as her eyes burned and the inside of her mouth felt full of cotton. It took all of her composure not to scream out!

  In a daze of confusion, she swallowed her emotions and assumed an air of calm that she certainly did not feel. She handed the letter to Mother Lenora, who read it as Rowena turned to Lord Strongbow and said coolly, “I see. I shall gather my things and be ready to leave at daylight, as you command.” She turned and headed back up the stairs to her cell. She needed time alone. She needed time to pray.

  Behind her, she heard Mother Lenora instructing Sister Prudence and the others to make preparations for the men to lodge in the visitor’s quarters overnight. Sister Prudence scurried off to the kitchen to prepare meals and the others scattered to tend to their assigned duties. Mother Lenora followed Rowena to her cell.

  When the abbess reached Rowena’s cell, Rowena was already at her prayer bench, kneeling in silent prayer. She heard Mother Lenora come in and looked up at her, tears brimming in her eyes. The abbess gently placed her hands on Rowena’s shoulders. “I’m sorry, my dear child. I know how you thought you wanted to dedicate your life to God. But it now seems God has other plans for you. Let Him guide you.”

  “Thank you for your words of consolation, my dear Mother. I am sorry but I take no comfort in them. I’m afraid God may be mistaken this time!”

  Mother Lenora chuckled. “I sincerely doubt He is mistaken, Rowena. You must take comfort in knowing that we cannot always understand God’s reasons. Understanding is not what He calls us to do. We must be willing always to trust that God has a plan for all of us, and we are bound to obey. He will never betray you, Rowena. You must trust Him.”

  Rowena hugged the abbess. “I cannot bear the thought of leaving this life behind, nor all of you. The abbey is my only family now. The church is my family. Nothing else matters to me.”

  Mother Lenora continued her gentle, but firm solace. Her faith in God was steadfast. “Rowena, listen to me. You are no longer a child. As the noblewoman you are about to become, you will have many opportunities to show your devotion to God. You can be an example of piety for many others. Your generosity and your strength in spirit will see you through every moment. God will be with you everywhere and in every moment. Have faith in Him, Rowena.”

  With that, Mother Lenora left Rowena alone with her thoughts. Alone in the silence of her cell, Rowena prayed. She prayed to God to watch over everyone she loved, the abbey itself, Nana, and Holiday, who by now was probably feeling his old age. She prayed long and hard for a way out of this unacceptable predicament she suddenly found herself in. She wondered, was this truly God’s will? What about the notion that God only helps those who help themselves? Was there no way out of this for her?

  Hours must have passed. Rowena’s vigil was interrupted by a knock on her cell door. “Rowena?” It was Sister Prudence. She held a plate with some bread and cheese and a cup of potage “I thought ye might like somethin’ to nibble on.”

  Rowena got up stiffly and opened the door. “Thank you, Sister. Please, come in,” she said, glumly.

  Sister Prudence set the plate on a night table and gave Rowena a motherly embrace. “This must be a heartbreakin’ blow to ye. I’m so sorry,” Sister Prudence said.

  “I am despondent. I have been beseeching God to show me His will. . . the way He wants me to go,” Rowena said. There was a quiet but unmistakable determination in her voice. “I did not envision this! Marrying a man I do not even know. . . a fat old lecher like Earl Strongbow.”

  “Oh? And has He shown ye another path?” Sister Prudence asked.

  “Yes, in fact, I believe He has,” Rowena said, almost whispering. “Close the door. I must confide in you.”

  Sister Prudence peered into the hallway. It was deserted. She closed the cell door so they could talk without being overheard.

  “What is it?” Sister Prudence asked in a whisper.

  Rowena took a deep breath. “I cannot abide by my father’s will. The thought of marrying Earl Strongbow is repulsive. I do not care that it is what noblemen are supposed to do with their daughters or that everyone expects me to go along with it.”

  “What will ye dae? Ye cannae stay here anymore,” Sister Prudence asked.

  “I know. I’m going to run away… Tonight.”

  Sister Prudence gasped. “What? Have ye gone mad, dear girl? Ye cannae go out alone. Only women of ill repute venture out alone at
night. And ye know this countryside is dangerous. It is filled with raiders who would kill ye or commit unspeakable acts of depravity! A young woman like yerself has nae chance alone.”

  “I am aware of the dangers,” Rowena said, “though I fear a worse fate if I allow myself to be taken back. I believe my life is meant to serve our Lord. I will not allow my father to take me from that calling and use me for his own profit. How dare he push me into marriage?”

  Sister Prudence nodded. “I understand how ye must feel. But it is the custom of the aristocracy. These arrangements happen all the time to young women from prominent families like yers. Think of it. If ye choose to submit, ye can have a comfortable life and use yer riches for the benefit of all that is good. With yer beauty and yer charm, ye could have the nation at yer feet! Think of all the good ye can dae. Perhaps that is God’s purpose in this.”

  “Hmmph. You sound like Mother Lorena,” Rowena said wryly. “I do not wish to become a wife. I only want to serve God. Why do my own desires matter not at all?”

  “Rowena, it is not about what ye want. It is about what God wants for ye. Remember that Lord Strongbow is a child of God, too. God sent him to ye for a reason. It is not yer duty to understand or question His plans for ye. Yer only duty is to obey His will. I fear that ye will have to find His purpose for ye… as Lord Strongbow’s wife,” Sister Prudence said.

  Rowena seemed not to hear her. “Sister, have you considered why Lord Strongbow has not yet taken a wife, at his age? My goodness, he is old enough to be my father. No, I want nothing to do with him or his riches. I want only to devote my life to serving our Lord. This- this- ‘wedding’ scheme of theirs must be the devil’s work.”

  Sister Prudence shook her head at all of this. “Oh my word,” was all she could say.